for Cypris Bjorna

Every summer, my skin was covered in ooze—an immune-system response to the itchy, rash of blisters from southern Vermont’s most prolific crop—Poison Parsnip.

Minutes after mowing, weed trimming or hiking, the skin on my hands, arms, chest, torso and legs would become hot and itchy, a precursor to the outbreak of rash of oozing, weepy blisters—and itch-madness—that would last 3-4 weeks.

Our medicine chest overflowed with topical creams, drying agents, anti-itch solutions, antihistamines, topical steroids, gauzes and bandages of every shape and size.

A lifelong allergy sufferer, I have a lot of personal experience with my body’s reaction to environmental invaders but zero medical or scientific knowledge of histamine, inflammation, infection, blisters, rashes, poisonous plants or how our immune system works.

After years of battling this meanass plant—I was desperate to find a way to work and play outdoors without all the suffering.

I understood little about histamine, inflammation, infection, blisters, rashes, poisonous plants or the body's immune system response to them.

And honestly, I didn’t care to learn about it—that much. 

I did, however, want to find a way to work and play outdoors each summer—without all the suffering.

So I took some time to think about it. 

I thought about all the products that dry, numb, sedate and relieve discomfort once a skin outbreak occurs—and how none of them are designed to prevent an outbreak.

Since avoiding contact with Poison Parsnip is nearly impossible in my surroundings, I wondered if it was  possible to live my outdoorsy life normally and prevent an outbreak from occurring?

Shifting my focus off my skin, I went deeper—to the core.

I thought about the word core: the origin, pith, marrow.

I thought about an apple’s core—that semi hard, semi clear protector of the seeds within—a tiny house.

I thought about the mix of toxic gas and molten ooze that rumbles it’s way from the earth’s core to it’s skin—inside an oversized blister—a volcano.

I thought about my own core—that elusive center of me, where heat and strength (or weakness) radiate from. 

The core—where everything begins.

I thought about cold water swimming, and the term ‘after drop’ that refers to the body’s core temperature continuing to drop—even after exiting the cold water. 

I thought about how it felt like my core temperature continued to rise after doing summer chores—an ‘after rise’, so to speak.

I observed that while in that state of ‘after rise’, I found myself absentmindedly scratching. 

The first itchy sensations began so small and subtle, that by the time I realized what I was doing, my previously clear skin became red and inflamed, and the first bumps of misery appeared. 

Once my skin erupted with bumps, the itchy sensation increased—a lot.

These hot spots hurled me into a state of itchy-madness, expanding my core heat to the outer surface with a little help from me. 

I realized I had been an accomplice to my own suffering.

So I sat in the shade, and thought about cooling—and meditated on being a noticer.

Focusing on being ‘skin mindful’, I set an intention to notice every itchy sensation and committed—to not scratch.

Then I went out and trimmed my lawn—in the hot sun.

Afterward, I stepped into a cold shower and imagined the plant material and oils, leaving the surface of my skin and focused the stream of ice cold water on my head, then torso, slowly turning round and round, to cool down my core until I felt—cold.

Standing in the cold stream, I imagined my insides hissing like a doused campfire and coolness radiating outward from my core to the underside of my skin—a cooling from the inside out. 

Over the next 2 weeks, whenever I felt hot, I noticed the subtle itchy sensation return. Immediately attentive, I would not scratch and ‘refrigerate’ myself with a cold water shower or lake swim.

That initial experiment with cooling was four summers ago and I have not had an outbreak of poison parsnip, or poison ivy since.

I am delighted (and a bit shocked) at how effective this simple, drug free approach is and LOVE the roominess in my medicine cabinet.

UPDATE - Summer 2020 

This has been an unusually hot summer in Vermont, and while struggling with a lung infection, I pondered ways to rapidly cool down my chest, throat and lungs from within—and found it!—in a fast melting chocolate-coconut creemee. 

My Funology medicine.